Poison
by Umi-chii
Summary: "My last moments with you… aren't so bad at all." Set after the manga. Contains spoiler for the last chapter.


Title: Poison

Fandom: Rave  
Warning: Spoilers for the last arc of the manga.  
Disclaimer: Umi-chii doesn't own Rave. Mashima-sensei still does.  
A/N: Edited for the purpose of archiving to AO3.

* * *

**Poison**

The endless blackness inside the Star Vestige had fazed him a bit, but Haru kept his guard. His grip on Ravelt tightened as Lucia finished the transformation of his demonic armor. Somewhere on the back of his mind, he could hear the roar of Endless.

And then Lucia was running, black sword a mirror of his own held above his head.

Haru could feel the bulging of his biceps as he prepared his stance, heart pumping wildly, the sound of rushing blood loud in his ears. He blocked the hit. _Yes._A chip of the blade flew past his cheek, cutting skin.

Lucia growled and pushed.

His steps faltered. _Can__'__t __anymore. __Too __much. _Vaguely, he felt the reopening of one of his wounds, blood starting to leak through the scab.

Lucia was saying something, but he couldn't hear him, not when something else caught his attention. There was a flash from the Star Vestige far beyond them. _Was __it __Endless?_ It-

He screamed. The pain gnawing at his sides exploded in freezing and burning pain as something both hot and cold slashed through his flesh; must be Blue Crimson. He was certain now his wound was definitely open again.

* * *

"Elie, I'm going out for a while."

"Okay."

Tying the last knot of his boots and with a wave to Nakajima, Haru locks the front door. Shivering slightly, he shoves his hands inside his coat's pockets. The wintry coldness of Garage Island is gentler than that of Punk Street, but it's too cold for comfort.

Walking past his parents' graves, Haru enters the forest, trudging on the well-trodden trail, the always present smile on his lips slowly fading away. The contentment inside of him slowly ebbs away with each step, replaced with a feeling of helplessness, of guilt, of sadness.

As the snow bears the burden of his footprints, Haru continues on without looking back, head bowed in a silent prayer.

* * *

He gathered his strength together and pushed back. The moment their swords clashed, another light from beyond flashed and blinded him, and he no longer knew what he was fighting for.

Lucia was speaking again, and Haru could not understand where Lucia was getting all these thoughts from. The world couldn't be that evil, could it? Must the blame be placed on the world? Insanity resides in every nook and cranny of the world; it can't be helped. He almost grinned in ironic understanding. It must be a good excuse for someone imprisoned for ten years out in the desert, vengeance and darkness his only companions.

All thoughts halted as he felt something cold pierced through his guts. _Again?_ He choked on his own saliva and blood, the sickening feel of it weakening him until he could no longer hold Ravelt. The sword landed on void beneath him with a loud clang. _How __is __that __even __possible?_

His knees shook, and for a moment he wanted to collapse, wanted to welcome darkness so much just for a second of respite, but the sword was still stuck in his body, keeping him upright. And then finally, Lucia pulled out his sword and there was blood everywhere, spurting out of his mouth, the gaping hole in his belly, his sides, _everywhere_.

Lucia was preaching again. _Honestly. _He couldn't bother with whatever shit Lucia was saying. Something about the cruel world or his family; he frankly could not care. In the midst of a battle, his wounds were of much greater importance than anything else. His hands were already wet and drenched with his blood, and he tried not to dig his fingers deeper into the flesh as he staunched the blood flow, pressing the wound with all the strength left in him.

Dried blood had already forced his right eye shut, and he could no longer see clearly with what was left of his vision, the loss of blood too much for his system to bear. But he held on, using this chance to recollect his strength, as Lucia prattled on about destiny and parallel worlds.

Honestly, what was wrong with the boy?

* * *

Stepping on a twig, Haru glances around the clearing. He's sure he kept to a straight path. There is no clearing here the last time he came.

He approaches the clearing and crouches on the edge. The weather isn't cold enough to freeze the water surface, but it is still too cold for his parched throat.

Out of curiosity, he dips his right hand instead and watches the paling of his knuckles, battle scars still evident. Something his chest clenches, and then the pressure releases slowly, like a calm exhalation. He wonders if this is also how Shuda feels when he stares at his missing arm, how Let feels when he stares at the holes in his chest. He doesn't know why the scars aren't healing, but he doesn't find himself complaining either.

Truthfully, he finds comfort from the scars. They serve as a reminder to him every day. The lengths they have gone through, the deaths and lives and chances sacrificed, of humanity, humility, and hope- of _everything._ It reminds him that he is human, still is, that once upon a time, he has fallen into darkness as well- that he _has_to fall into darkness to attain light, that he needs to know darkness first to be able to protect those he hold dear from darkness itself, and that he protects the world because he loves it.

_Love. _It's funny how everything always falls back into that simple, little thing. Yet in every battle he fights and in all battle he fought, in every decision he makes and all decisions he made, he asked himself, and he still does, the very question of _why_. Why does he fight? Why must he fight? Is this all he can do? Why must he decide for the good others? Why is there always an opposition, an antagonist, a negative to his positive?

Haru almost tumbles into the freezing water.

It was Lucia who showed him the answer. It was _him _who taught him the answer. It was himwho made him realize _that_answer. Even if he must be defeated to the point of death, Lucia did not care. He made created for the sole purpose of Haru's ultimate realization, the judge of Haru's destiny as Haru was the judge of the world's destiny.

And he feels sick knowing this. Angry, sad, _hopeless._

He remembers the tears and the helplessness, the inability to fight fate, the images forever charred into his mind. No matter what he did, he could not forget, could not erase those memories.

And he has stopped trying now. He no longer has the strength to fight. Spent the last of it sending Lucia to his eternal damnation- or salvation, whichever fits right.

It's not that he does not want to; he just can't anymore. The memories still burn, of course they do, and they burn the most painful when he was still stuck in the Star Vestige, his body repairing itself slowly but certainly. He had half-hoped he'd come out empty of memories, ironic it really was considering this whole thing started because they wanted to retrieve Elie's memories.

Recalling that very moment made him shut his eyes, so much emotions quelling and warring and unleashing within him, and though he tries to will tears not to fall, they still slip past his eyelids and fall down his cheeks. He cannot help himself, not even when his life depends on it.

In the end, Haru just sits there on the snow, his own tears keeping him warm as his fingers toy with the water. Frozen by guilt, yet still warm with hope. He almost smiles from the poetic ring of it. Perhaps justice is also such.

Without his other half, he has become a living paradox. And somehow, he doesn't care at all.

"_My last moments with you… aren't so bad at all."_

* * *

**END**

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